Laundry Wars
by Oma-1
Summary: It doesn't take Sam long to realise that allowing Jack to do the laundry isn't a good idea, although it does have it's benefits. Established S/J. Rated: T
1. Chapter 1

_AN: This ficlet emerged from painful personal experience. Unfortunately, I failed in my mission, so I no longer buy pure wool sweaters. It's just not worth it -sigh- _

_Disclaimer: They belong to t-awesome-ptb, who are going to grant the request of MOP, because they love us so much. That or we'll send in the penguin army ;)_

_S/J Established, Spoiler-free, Rated: T_

* * *

_**Laundry Wars**_

Jack lay relaxing in the bed, his fingers linked, his head resting on them, his lean frame long and straight, his ankles crossed; patiently waiting for his wife of 6 weeks to finish in the bathroom. While he waited, he amused himself with memories of their honeymoon at his cabin - fun, relaxation, sex; he allowed his memory to dwell and drifted off into very pleasurable daydreams...

Sam emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in her satin robe and towel in hand, her eyes immediately drawn to her husband's relaxed position. She took notice of his faint smile and the rather obvious proof of the nature of his daydreams, grinned knowingly and headed for the laundry room.

Happily humming, she sorted her way through the basket of clothes Jack had washed the day before. The humming stopped abruptly. As did Jack's pleasant daydream as Sam's wet towel landed on his face.

"Jack! You shrank my sweater - again!"

A quiet "Oops" was heard from under the towel. After a speedy threat assessment, Jack decided staying under the towel - soggy though it may be, was a pretty good idea.

"There's no point trying to hide Jack." Although Sam couldn't help but grin at his silliness, her voice was pure steel. She hadn't become a full bird Colonel with her own command without learning a thing or two about discipline.

_D'oh! _Jack slowly lowered the towel, keeping it just below his chin (he knew well enough by now it was essential to have some form of defense when facing an angry Carter, however paltry it may be). Sam was stood at the end of the bed. "I checked the label first and it didn't say not to put it in the dr..."

"Yes it does!" Sam cut him off mercilessly. "Right here!"

"What? Where?" Jack was genuinely confused.

Sam thrust her (now) very tiny sweater towards him, label first. "That little box with the circle in it and the cross through it!" She hoped the action would help her to keep her face straight. It wouldn't do to loose it now - she really had to train him how to wash her sweaters while she still had some left. But oh how she loved that confused look!

"Huh?" Jack cautiously raised himself on one elbow and tried to peer at the label. It was no use; his eyes couldn't focus on something that small from 6 feet away. He dropped the wet towel on the floor, got out of the bed and moved closer, careful to stay out of arm's reach.

Sam obligingly pointed out the minute symbol on the tiny label, resolutely ignoring his state of undress. "Here!"

"Huh...that's just...how's anyone supposed to understand those squiggles anyway!!" he groused.

That deserved a glare. The returning impudent and undaunted look required more stringent action. Sam took an intimidating step forward, waving the offending garment under Jack's nose. "You manage _squiggles_ just fine when it's a battle plan! Why can't you understand them when it's laundry? I've told you often enough!"

_Ahhh, battle plans - now she's talking! Time for a strategic retreat._ "Why don't you show me them again now?" Jack moved slowly closer. "That robe you're wearing for instance..." Jack pulled on the belt, undoing it slowly then sliding it off her shoulders "show me that label..." His words trailed off as he started nuzzling at Sam's shoulder, pushing her robe down her arms with his palms.

Sam sighed; partly in annoyance but mostly with pleasure. This battle may have ended in defeat for her sweaters, but her newly-formed plans for the morning were definitely looking good. They'd return to the Laundry Wars later.

* * *

_Another AN: If there are shippers out there, who like me, would like to see some confirmation on screen of the status of Sam and Jack's relationship, check out this site and join in the fun! www dot freewebs dot com slash blitzsquee. Or drop by the Sam/Jack Ship Family Discussion thread over at the Gateworld Forum :D_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Laundry Wars - Chapter 2_**

Guinness…

Check. He took a long swig. Never mind Dutch courage, he'd need all the luck of the Irish for this one.

Hand Washing for Husbands - An Idiot's Guide…

Check. Jack frowned again at the title of the book, but the kindly, vaguely familiar looking old lady, who'd led him from the laundry detergent to the hair care shelf and helped him pick out the right shampoo, had recommended it; he'd even charmed her into helping him find it in the book section of the store.

New Sweater…

Check. He certainly wasn't going to test this out on one of Sam's sweaters; he really didn't want to find out what would happen if he trashed another one.

Sink of warm water…

He stuck his hand in the water to test the temperature…Check.

Shampoo and Conditioner…

Check. He was still highly dubious, but both the lady and the book insisted on it. He wondered idly for a moment if she was the authoress of the book.

Towel, large and fluffy…

Check.

Drying Rack…

Check. It was at this stage of his preparations he really wished Sam were here and not off world. He knew full well that she'd have had it up in seconds, not the six and a half minutes it had taken him. She'd also be minus the bump on his forehead and the cut on his finger. It was at times like this he really missed his P-90; partly so he could shoot the stupid contraption, partly so he could disassemble and reassemble it in under 60 seconds to prove to himself he still had "it".

Jack took a deep breath, picked up the shampoo and squirted it into his hand. He lathered it up and then swirled it into the water. Next he grabbed the sweater and dunked it into the water. He jumped back as the water splashed up at him. _'Maybe not so much of a slam dunk' _Jack thought. He looked at his clothes and shrugged, figuring he'd get a lot more water on him before this was over.

A mere 10 minutes later, Jack was grinning smugly. The sweater was lying neatly on the drying rack, and his own clothes were almost dry.

SG-1 SG-1 SG-1

The following afternoon, he found himself pacing the hallway. _This retirement lark isn't always great._ Jack thought to himself. Along with the wonderful highs that came with finally having the relationship with Sam he had desperately wanted all these years, was the damnable lows of finally having the relationship with Sam he'd so desperately wanted: namely the waiting. Sam had been off-world for 3 days, 14 hours and 9 minutes - assuming Walter had texted him immediately she stepped foot back through the wormhole, maybe it was 8 minutes. He'd learned over the last 4 years to tolerate being left behind while Carter was off-world with SG-1 and then stationed in Atlantis. What he hadn't experienced before was his _wife_ being off-world. It was Not Good.

_Come on! What is taking so long? _He checked his watch again. _I am so not doing this again. I'm pulling ex-rank and marshalling every annoyance technique I've ever used. Next time, I'm gonna be in the gateroom pacing. The concrete floors will hold up to this way better than my wooden ones._

Just as he was starting to question his sanity - he was far more used to taking action than he was to talking to himself, Jack was rescued by the sound of Sam's car pulling into the driveway. He was out of the door and had her held tightly in his arms before his brain had processed the thought. Sam's arms came around him, hugging him back as his head dipped and he placed a tender kiss on the side of her neck. The kiss turned into nuzzling and Sam felt her knees weakening. "Hi Jack. Miss me?" she grinned, hugging him tighter to maintain her balance.

Jack grunted in agreement and separated his lips from her neck long enough to reply "Yep." and continued nuzzling.

"I missed you too." Sam replied, sliding one hand up to the back of his neck and placing her own kiss on his temple. She pulled away slightly and he raised his head. They shared a look of love and relief that she was home safely. With arms still around each other they entered their home.

Dinner preparations followed the usual routine they'd fallen into. Sam prepping, Jack cooking, Sam removing the beer bottle from Jack's hand and dancing away (beer wasn't her favourite seasoning), Jack trying to cajole her into returning it and dinner over-cooking thanks to the inevitable making out that occurred the second Jack caught her.

Conversation flowed between them effortlessly as they ate and afterwards relaxed on the sofa. They had both been a little surprised by how quickly they were able to break down the barriers all those years of following the regs had built. They'd always had a sense of humour in common, comfortable banter had always come easily; but actual real conversation about actual real things and their actual real feelings about said things - that hadn't happened in the days they were serving together. Sam was laughing animatedly as Jack finished regaling her with Homer's latest escapade. She loved to catch up on the episodes she missed while off-world from Jack rather than from a dvd. She loved watching his every expression, joining in with his laughter and enjoyment. She impulsively raised her hands to his face and glued her lips to his, enjoying the freedom to kiss him into insensibility whenever she chose.

Releasing Jack's face, Sam took him by the hand, pulling him up off the sofa and heading toward the hallway. He allowed Sam to lead him towards the bedroom, grinning inwardly at the surprise awaiting her there. He wasn't at all disappointed by the soft "What?!" that escaped her lips as she stopped in the doorway. Sam turned to him, eyebrow raised, waiting for an explanation.

"You've been spending too much time with Teal'c again." he joked, indicating her eyebrow.

Both eyebrows dropped and quickly drew together in mock reproof.

"Ok, ok!" Jack laughed. "I told you I'd been busy around the house."

"I'm not sure running to the cleaners counts as busy around the house." Sam replied, a small smile playing around the corners of her mouth.

"No cleaners." Jack stated emphatically. "All me."

There went the eyebrow again.

"And the lady in the store. She helped a little."

Sam looked at him appraisingly. Jack felt a little like one of her doohickeys under scrutiny. He recognized her assessing look at him, then at the sweaters nearly folded on the bed. She stepped forward to touch them.

"Carter! You know the rule!" he reminded.

Sam rolled her eyes at him. "Are you _ever_ gonna get sick of saying that?"

"Nope." he grinned smugly. "Your reaction is even better now than it was in the field."

Sam causally took hold of the sweater on the top of the pile. "Well, since we're not in the field, I'm touching without express permission. _Jack_." Sam's eyes widened as she registered the textures she was feeling with her fingers. Soft, fluffy. She caught a scent and lifted it to her face - it smelled great! She looked closely at the garment. Yep, it was definitely hers. It had been at the bottom of the wash pile before she'd left along with strict instructions that it was to stay there - along with the 3 others. Yet here they were, all neatly folded, feeling soft and fluffy and (she lifted another one to her face) smelling great! She turned to face Jack. "Wow. You have been busy!"

"Yup." He moved to the drawers along the wall opposite the end of their bed. "There's another one in here too. This was the practice one." He pulled out a beautiful emerald green sweater, very similar to the one he'd mangled in the washing machine a few weeks previously.

Sam felt tears welling in the corner of her eyes, so touched by his thoughtfulness. She'd never expected this willingness to emerge himself in domesticity. Throwing himself into a fire fight, or pushing himself to the limits of his endurance to complete a mission - those things she'd come to accept as part of what made him him. But hand washing?

Seeing Sam standing with her arms full of sweaters and her eyes full of tears, Jack did what came naturally. "C'mere." He enfolded her, sweaters and all, in his arms and hugged her tightly, his head dipping into her neck. They stood there for a few moments, until Jack raised his face a little and whispered in Sam's ear. "Did I tell you, that I've gotten really good at hand washing?" He began nuzzling her neck. "Would you care for a demo?"

Sam's tears turned to giggles. "Race you to the shower."

SG-1 SG-1 SG-1

The early morning sun shone through the filmy curtains of the bedroom window, casting a gentle glow across the room. Sam stretched languorously, enjoying the twinges in certain muscles after the lengthy exercise they had received the previous evening. She was feeling particularly energized, and after glancing at her still sleeping husband, decided that a run suited her mood perfectly.

She dressed carefully and quietly so as not to disturb Jack and headed off to the park a few blocks away. She ran past the swing sets, around the grassy area towards the pond. She ran past the benches, nodding a greeting to the old lady, who despite the early hour, had already taken up residence in her usual spot, and from there to the track. After a couple of laps, Sam decided to head back.

Sam had stepped out of the shower and was re-entering the bedroom before Jack awakened. "Morning sleepyhead." she grinned at him.

It hadn't taken long since his retirement to rid himself of the compunction to rise with the sun, but he was still normally up and about by 7am. He glanced at the clock, 08.13 glared back at him. "I'm getting too old for this." Jack grumbled, pulling his eyebrows down in a frown.

Sam laughed, recognising his expression and refusing to take the bait. "It's your turn to make breakfast." She breezed past him and headed to her closet.

Jack sighed and headed for the shower. In less time than it took Sam to get dressed, he'd showered, shaved, returned to their bedroom and began the hunt for his favourite boxers. Engrossed in rummaging around in his underwear drawer, he hadn't noticed Sam's exit from the bedroom, nor her return. She paused in the doorway, arrested by the scene in front of her. Jack's bare ass wiggling in the air just visible above the side of the bed (and attesting to the thoroughness of his search) almost broke her composure. She leaned against the doorframe, a huge grin spreading across her face. "Nice view." Jack's head appeared where his ass had been a moment earlier.

He grinned cheekily at her. "You could be seeing a lot more of it if I don't find my boxers." He frowned. "I know I washed them yesterday, they should be h…" He paused, his eyes narrowed as he registered the change in Sam's face and her hand behind her back. He pinned her with a glare. "Tell me what you know."

Sam sighed and looked at him with sympathy. "They were stuck in the door of the dryer."

Jack just knew there was more. He closed his eyes and braced for the bad news. "And?"

She brought his underwear into view. On the front where there should have been a picture of Homer there was a strange kinda melted patch, all stuck together with traces around the edges of blue, white and yellow.

* * *

_tbc ... although it could be a while _

_AN: Special thanks go to _DutchIndeed _for the guest appearance of her character, the lady on the park bench. ((huggles Nad)) You'll be seeing more of her in the next chapter._


End file.
